


Trade

by ofstardustandbruises



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, sandor's in biiiiiig trouble, that's my favorite kinda trouble for sandor tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-24
Updated: 2015-05-04
Packaged: 2018-03-25 12:03:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3809713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ofstardustandbruises/pseuds/ofstardustandbruises
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sandor's a junior in college, Sansa's a freshman, and both of them find themselves in the laundry room while their roommates have incredibly loud sex at one in the morning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I really do not want to study for SAT IIs. But can you blame me?

_Oooohhhhh_. Sandor’s eyes snapped open at the sound of Brienne being extremely pleased with the attentions Jaime was giving her. With a soft groan coming from his mouth as he ran his hand over his face, though it was more of a sigh of exasperation than a moan of pleasure, Sandor swung down from his bed, shrugged on his varsity jacket and old tennis shoes, and quietly snuck out of the room. It wasn’t that he really minded Brienne and Jaime having sex in the room right next to him, but he wished that they could at least be quieter about it.

He saw the light flick on before he saw a red-headed girl rush into the laundry room, hearing the opening of a washing machine and the dull thud of clothes being tossed in without a care, the soft slam of the machine’s door being closed before Sandor heard quiet _hep_ s and the tiny bouncing of equally tiny feet. When he finally got to the room, he saw a girl in pink kitten pajamas trying to leap on top of the washing machine, her high ponytail tied in a red velvet bow flopping up and down as she nearly makes it, but never seems to scrabble on top in time. He quickly glances at the clock.

“It’s two in the morning and you’re doing laundry.”

She stops bouncing and making those noises as she turns wide-eyed towards him, hands still placed at the ready on the washing machine.

“You’re up at two in the morning, too. But you’re not doing laundry.”

Sandor notices that the adjacent washing machine has a couple of books and a brand new deck of cards spilling out of a bag, as well as a soft yellow lace thong peeking out from under the books. He walks over next to her and points directly at it.

“You missed something.” And when she blushes, she turns redder than the bow in her hair as she snatches it away from his eyes and stuffs it in her bag, and he laughs. Quietly, of course.

She doesn’t look in his eyes, still blushing furiously, when she puts out her hand and mumbles quietly, “My name’s Sansa.”

“Sandor Clegane,” he says back as he takes her hand in his, marvelling at its smoothness, and then there’s a tiny scratch as she pulls her hand away. Her nails are perfectly manicured a light pink, and he wonders if that’s her favorite color.

He hops on top of the washing machine, shoving her stuff to the side as she tries to get on top of the one next to him.

“Good lord, Sansa, here.” He grabs her by the waist and plops her on top of the one next to him, removing his hands a second too late.

“Thanks, Sandor. What are you even doing here, if you’re not doing laundry? You could be asleep instead of sitting on a washing machine next to me.” Even her lips are a soft pink, just like her pajamas. The kittens are pretty cute, and he sees a couple of puppies on there as well.

“You’re right. I could be sleeping, and I was, until my roommate woke me up having sex with his girlfriend.”

“That’s what my roommate was doing too! Except my roommate’s a girl of course, not a boy. Margaery and Bronn, having loud sex as usual.” She flushes again, and Sandor wonders if he’s ever met her before, but surely he’d remember if he did, right?

“Have we met before? You seem familiar…”

“I came to one of the football games when I was touring last year. My little brothers, Rickon and Bran, really wanted to meet the team. So when you came out after the game, I’m afraid they kinda attacked you, asking for your autograph. I think they said they wanted you to sign with your real name, not your...stage name?”

_That’s_ where he knew her! She’d hung back, in a fuzzy pink sweater, little brothers hanging on his every word and he was hanging on her every move. She had rocked back and forth, arms crossed as her dad walked over and raved over Sandor’s touchdown from his first college game, saying it was unbelieveable and how did Sandor ever manage it? Sandor had joked that everyone else just ran away from his face, and he noticed Sansa had grimaced when he said that. He turned away from her gaze after she did that and had regretted it ever since. The last look he saw of her was her holding her little brothers’ hands, and when Jaime had walked over and clapped him on the back, Jaime had said Sandor had a real puppy dog look in his eyes. Sandor never imagined that she’d actually end up going here and living in his dorm, no less.

“Yeah, I remember that. What are you studying, anyway?” Sansa pulls her arms around her legs, shivering a little, and when she looks away to answer, Sandor unzipped and pulled off his jacket, _Clegane_ embroidered on the back in a yellow thread, the yellow just like the thong she hid in her bag.

“I’m majoring in nuclear engineering, with a minor in areospace engineering.” Sandor let out a low whistle, damn, she was smart. “It’s a lot, I know, but it’s fascinating. Are you doing anything besides football?”

Sansa turns back towards him, and he’s agape, holding out his jacket. She tries to take his jacket tentatively, but he just shakes his head and puts it on for her. It completely dwarfs her and he wants to see her in it every day.

“I’m studying journalism. I want to be a sports journalist in the future.” She smiles, and he wishes he was smarter, just for her, when interrupts his thoughts.

“My mom’s an editor for Sports Illustrated. She absolutely loves it, even if she finds the covers tacky. I bet if I put in a good word for you, maybe she’d let you intern for her?” He thinks he loves her in this moment, or at least thinks he could love her in the future if the fates allowed it. All he can do is nod frantically and she giggles. Sandor wants to hear that sound again and again, and if it’s the last sound he ever hears, he’d be happy. Sansa reaches over and picks up the cards and one of the books.

“So what do you want to do while our roommates are having sex? Card games or read _Probabilistic Risk Assessment in the Nuclear Power Industry: Fundamentals and Applications_? And before you ask, it’s light reading.” Sandor snatches the card deck out of her hands, and she laughs again as he tears the plastic off and starts shuffling the cards, nearly dropping them in his frantic attempt to make Sansa forget all about her _light reading_. When asked what card game she wanted to play, she screwed up her face in deep contemplation, before answering Go Fish, much to Sandor’s dismay.

“Do you have any eights?” Sandor asked. He was winning for the third time in a row, and he felt some sort of pride, even though Go Fish is all about luck and not skill at all.

Sansa whined before handing over her eight with a muttered _screw you, Sandor_.

“Do you have any kings?” Another groan from Sansa and the king of hearts is thrown woefully at his head.

“Do you have any sixes?” Sansa looked at him, sighed, and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she was looking at him through her lashes, and she crawled over to him. Sandor gulped. Sansa sat herself on his lap, his legs trapped between hers. She took his hands from his side and put them on her hips, and he pulled her forward a little bit as she briefly slid her hands on his shoulders before wrapping her arms around him completely. Sandor felt his sweatpants starting to tighten, and he hoped Sansa didn’t feel it when she leaned forward. The faint touch of her lips as she grazed over his cheek, and his bad one at that, made him moan a little before she reached his ear. She took a deep breath, and he thought she was going to bite his ear when she seductively whispered two words.

“ _Go Fish_.”

He shoved her away from him, though gently. “You _minx_!” Sandor was embarrassed as she was giggling at him and how red his face was turning now.

Sansa winked at him. “Do you have any sixes?”

He threw it at her.

“Do you have any tens?”

He threw the ten at her too. He only had one card left before he would lose it to her, and there was no more draw pile left.

“Do you have any aces?”

He moaned, and the game was ended. They started counting their piles, and Sandor was sure he had at least two more sets than Sansa, but when Sansa said she had twenty-nine sets and he only had twenty-three, he couldn’t believe it. He gaped at her and Sansa laughed once more before explaining.

“Okay, okay, I _may_ have cheated a little. I saw your cards when I was seducing you, and stole a few of your sets when you weren’t paying attention…”

That’s when he moved to tackle her, and though she tried to get away with a squeak, Sandor already grasped her around her waist and pulled her onto his lap. He held her close, eyes closed, and smelled the citrus shampoo she used. He heard the sound of cards fluttering to the floor and Sansa sighing before struggling a little in his grasp. He completely lets go of her and she mumbles a _no_ before turning around to face him.

“We’re going to be here a long time. We should get some sleep, Sandor.” She yawns and the way she scrunches up her face in her kitten and puppy pajamas, wrapped in his jacket, is an image he’ll never forget. She wraps her hands around his waist and he does the same to her. He reasons it’s because it’s cold and when they lay down on top of the machines, intertwined with each other, he wishes this could last forever. His eyes close and he’s drifting in and out of sleep when Sansa whispers _good night, Sandor_ and he manages a _night, Sansa_ before he is gone.

But she’s the one gone in the morning when Jaime’s at his side, shaking him awake.

“Sorry for last night, man. I’ll warn you the next time, okay? By the way, it’s eight already and you need to hit the showers.” Jaime leaves, running off towards the bathroom. Sandor sits up and looks around, and there seems to be no trace that Sansa was even there last night. He groans–his jacket is gone and he hits the washing machine in frustration, but it’s not cold metal he hits, but a book.

He looks down at it. It’s a book about women in space, and on top of it is a sticky note. A pink sticky note. With her phone number at the top, underlined many times to get his attention.

_Dear Sandor,_

_Sorry I had to dash without saying goodbye, but I have an areo phys class at seven (gross, I know). You can keep the book; and I even wrote down my favorite line from my college essay on the inside._

Sandor glanced away from the note, and flipped to the first page. He snorted as he read it: _If I’m lucky, I’ll die on Mars._ But there was something not quite right about the book, Sandor noted, and as he flipped through the pages, that yellow lace thong fell out of the middle. Sandor’s eyes went wide.

_Morbid, huh?_

_Love, Sansa_

_P.S. And about your jacket...trade?_

 


	2. Chapter 2

Whatever this was, it was a bad decision.

Sandor was standing in the middle of Victoria’s Secret, perfume hanging in the air as bras and panties were hanging in front of him. He wasn’t the only man in the store; several other men were all either standing agape like Sandor was, or were cautiously holding up the panties as if trying to imagine what their significant others would look like in it. Sevenmas was coming.

Maybe Sansa would like some navy blue underwear? What even counted as lingerie anyway? Sandor knew in the back of his head there was something to do with dolls, but he really couldn’t say. Could he just get Sansa some lace bras and a few thongs or other lace panties? Was that enough? It was probably too little. Sandor groaned. He didn’t know anything about being a good boyfriend. Maybe this was asking too much of her. Sure, they’d already done it, but maybe he should just get her some book on space. Or take her on a couple’s vacation for spring break instead. No, that’d be completely separate from Sevenmas, and he’d do that if they even lasted that long.

_If they even lasted that long_. Now the panic was starting to set in for Sandor. He could see the events unfolding play by play. If he messed this up, then Sansa would want to break up with him. Then he’d have lost the most perfect girl, and he’d totally lose his football skill because he’d be so depressed. He wouldn’t go outside anymore, not even to go to classes. He’d probably see her dating some boy and die immediately at the sight.

This had to be the most perfect gift ever. Five sets of underwear, then. That should be enough. It had to be.

Sandor walked over to one of the displays, seeing the bras there. He remembered Sansa was a B something or other, but that other number probably didn’t mean much of anything. He could always guess if he needed to, right? Or he could text Margaery...

  
**Hey M. What bra size is Sansa?**

**ohhh u going Sevenmas shopping??**   
**i bet Sansa will love what u get her ;)**   
**she’s a 36B. also small panties don’t forget**   
**and do something either lace navy blue light grey seafoam green**   
**or even yellow (bc it makes her think of u she’s so cute)**

**Thanks M. Knock Bronn dead.**

 

Okay, so the only other thing that mattered was actually finding the underwear. Sandor saw a hint of yellow, but it was far too bright. There was some green on the other side. What even was seafoam green anyway? He quickly looked it up on his phone.

Yes. He’d definitely get that for her. And that bra was seafoam green! Sandor picked it up and saw it was mostly made of lace; there was even an adorable little bow in the middle. It was her size too. It was like the gods smiled down on him, saying _Merry Sevenmas, Sandor. Go please Sansa. Win all the football games. Become a successful journalist after reaching fame as a football player. Marry Sansa and conceive many babies when she wears this bra._ He checked the price tag.

Sixty-five dollars. Sandor looked at the bra in confusion. This couldn’t be sixty-five dollars. It was just a scrap of lace and some elastic. Was it the color that was so expensive? Then Sandor realized why Sansa got so mad at him for wanting to just cut her bra off because he couldn’t get the back unhooked. How on earth could bras be this expensive? What about the other half of it?

With the bra still clutched in his hand, Sandor navigated his way around the other dumbstruck men to the thong section. _Thank the gods there’s a sale._ Three for thirty-three dollars, he could do that. He picked up the first three thongs in Sansa’s size he saw. One was a navy blue, and the other two were a black lace and a yellow lace. He smirked; he liked cloaking her in his colors.

But he had to get _out of there_. He stopped once more to get a navy blue bra for Sansa, and practically ran to the register.

“Would you like me to wrap this up?”

“Oh gods, yes. And...can I get a gift card?”

* * *

It was Sevenmas morning and Sansa and Sandor stayed in bed. Sansa had told her parents she was going to visit Margaery’s family for Sevenmas, but in reality, Sansa and Sandor had skipped town and gone to a luxurious beach town. Damn the consequences, he was going to spend the day with his little bird, and her alone. They pretended they were Mr. and Mrs. Clegane and then laughed about it as the elevator went up to their floor. When they got in the room, they tossed their suitcases on the floor and Sandor scooped her up. He threw her onto the bed and tickled her sides, kissing her neck as she laughed and squirmed under him.

“So, do you like the idea of being Mrs. Clegane?”

“Maybe just Ms. Clegane, Sandor. Mrs. belongs to my mother,” she pushed him away, scanning his eyes for _something_. “You’d better not be proposing to me, Sandor. I still have to get into space, baby.”

“Maybe someday, Sansa, but not today. And when you go into space, I’ll miss you, but I’ll also keep telling everyone that my girlfriend is out of this world.”

That still didn’t stop them pretending that they were married the entire Sevenmas break.

Sansa whined when Sandor rolled out of bed after kissing her good morning. He tossed Sansa her floral silk dressing gown and dug through his suitcase to get the gifts he bought for her.

“Mine’s wrapped in a tshirt to keep it snug. Can you get it for me?”

Sandor eagerly gathered up the gifts and jumped back into bed.

“Mine’s not much, and there’s a gift card in it too, because I didn’t know exactly what you wanted…It’s kind of an apology for what I nearly did to your bra.”

Sansa tore into her gift, pulling out the underwear and admiring it, kissing him when she turned towards him.

“Let me guess, the gift card’s for lingerie?” Sandor nodded, and Sansa winked back at him. “Maybe I’ll have you come along, darling.”

She shoved his gift towards him, and she nuzzled up against him. He wrapped his arm around her, squeezing her even closer to his chest. He tossed away the tshirt and saw a brand new camera still in its box. It wasn’t any cheap thing either. It was probably one of the most expensive things he owned now. There was a piece of paper stuck to the bottom of the box, and when Sandor took it off and read it, his eyes grew wide. This definitely wasn’t possible. A job with Sports Illustrated. They’d even pay him for his photographs and his articles.

“You like it?”

He kissed her hard. When they came up for air, he whispered in her ear and bit it playfully.

“I wouldn’t trade it for the world.” _Good thing Sansa’s up in space._  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be one more installment to this, but I'm not sure if it'll be put into "Trade" or perhaps will be a mini fic on its own. I'll have to determine after my break how long I want it to be.


End file.
